


Kasabi's Child

by Kalypso



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-25
Updated: 2002-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:59:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalypso/pseuds/Kalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Travis is busy trying to trap Blake at Central Control, Servalan is playing out the final round of a game that began sixteen years ago - and might lead to a very different future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kasabi's Child

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published in _Sleer As Folk_ (July 2002), edited by Fran and Ika.
> 
> I would like to dedicate it to Yolande Palfrey, who played Veron, and who died in 2011.

_Her life is safest only in her birth. - Shakespeare, Richard III._

 

"Kasabi's child."

 

When Travis had first come to her with news of Kasabi's movements, Servalan had fallen silent. He hadn't noticed, of course, as he kept talking about how he planned to use Kasabi to ensnare his obsession, Blake. But after a while, Servalan smiled faintly at the idea that his game should be the mirror image of her own. Travis didn't realise. At first, he was irritated when she said she would be accompanying him to Central Control, suspicious that she didn't trust him. In time, as she resisted the opportunities to interfere with his plan, and merely smoothed his path with the civilian authorities, he accepted her presence. And she waited, waited for Kasabi to fall into the trap, waited for a revenge just as satisfying as the one that Travis sought on Blake. But it was only as the information on Kasabi's group trickled in that Servalan began to guess what might be waiting for her.

 

Kasabi's child. She circled around the girl, watching her confusion and grief, but always looking for something beyond them, something in the eyes or the features... was it there?

 

Would she have had a child, if Keller had remained with her? She couldn't quite imagine it. Everything she knew of pregnancy and childbirth disgusted her. The mess... the loss of control... these seemed worse than any pain. But in recent times, she had begun to feel an odd sense of something missing. She wanted to leave some sort of legacy to the future.

While visiting the Clonemasters to collect a copy of Blake, she had been listening to Clonemaster Fen's tiresome platitudes when suddenly her attention was caught by something: Fen's description of how she herself had been created by her predecessor. "A single cell was taken from her... The child was identical in every way to the child that she had once been. She brought it up, taught it, trained it - so that when that child became a woman, she not only looked like my predecessor, she thought like her."

And the idea began to grow in Servalan's mind. When she had completed with her business with the clone of Blake, she might return to the Clonemasters with another commission. Not an adult this time, oh no, that would be far too dangerous. But a child, who could be trained in her own image, and simultaneously taught to be devoted to her... 

Blake's clone shattered her vision. "All life is linked." Somehow, those wretched Frankensteins had managed to imprint their Rule of Life on the creature, even though they had had him for only five hours. Perhaps they had encoded it in the brain? An infant Servalan with a reverence for life - all life - was not what she had in mind at all. If that was fundamental to the Clonemasters' productions, they were no use to her. But the idea had remained with her, even though she could no longer see how it might be accomplished.

 

She circled round Veron again. The girl tried to gaze downward, but the movement of her eyelids betrayed the fact that she was anxiously tracking Servalan all the time.

"So... have you nothing to say?"

Silence, but the girl was trembling.

"Don't you want to know what will happen to you now?"

"You'll kill me, like you killed my mother!"

"No!" Servalan paused a moment, carefully introducing a hint of a stammer. "That was... Travis. I tried... to stop him, but he had overdosed her before I realised what he was doing. She was in so much pain that you wouldn't have wanted her to live, if you had seen her. I'm sorry."

"Can I see her now?"

What an odd request. Servalan sighed, sympathetically. "If you really want to. But it would be very upsetting for you."

"Why should you care about that? She told me all about you. You don't care for anyone."

"Oh yes, telling people all about me was something your mother made a habit of!" Servalan wanted to provoke the girl's curiosity, and a moment's anger was worth the risk, as long as she switched back to sympathy a moment later. "I'm sorry," she continued, after waiting that moment. "Your mother and I fell out a very long time ago. But I do know that she was a brave woman. I admired her in many ways. It was a pity she couldn't do the same for me, but even very brave people can be wrong, you know."

No, Kasabi's courage had never been in question. And Servalan had admired her once, at the same time as she despised her: the confident, idealistic young tutor standing at the front of the cadets' class. A memory she had long wanted to forget. But the image eluded her now; she saw only a middle-aged woman, her sight blurring, her mouth dribbling, mumbling "Should have tried to help you..." She dismissed the thought.

"But none of this solves the problem of what to do with you," she murmured. "I could just let you go. Is there anyone you could go to?"

"My mother was all my family."

"Your father..."

This was what she had been working her way towards, all along, but Veron looked at her blankly.

"You didn't know him? Did she tell you about him?"

The girl was definitely curious now.

"She held it back from you, then."

 

Servalan very rarely found herself in a situation where she was not quite sure what to say. But she had never actually told this story before; in fact, she had carefully avoided telling it. She sensed she would have to tell something very close to the truth - or, at least, something that would not be completely inconsistent with what Kasabi might have told her daughter. Servalan was not one to shirk a challenge, however, and her insurance policy - the syringe that had killed Kasabi - still lay on the table, should she change her mind. At least there was no need to feign hesitation now.

 

"When I was very young - not much older than you are - I met a man." A hackneyed start, she knew. She looked up at the girl, who met her eyes with a new and unexpected confidence, disconcertingly like Kasabi's. That wasn't what she had hoped for. And what would she do with Veron, if she succeeded? The girl would have to be watched for years, in case she really believed what she had said to Travis. "The only cause worth fighting for!" No matter. Servalan had never had any difficulty in disposing of those she no longer wanted about her. The future could be dealt with when it arrived; in the meantime, all that mattered was this, the greatest seduction she had ever undertaken.

"My mother said you met a lot of men," remarked Veron. Well, that was predictable.

"Oh, lots of them." It wasn't exactly worth denying. Servalan grinned. "And all of them decorative, and amusing, and expendable... Except that one." She stopped, remembering how he had seemed so unimpressive at first that she had barely noticed him. It was his voice that had first caught her attention. She had heard it behind her, asking Kasabi a question, as she sat, bored, in a cadets' class on relations with the Outer Worlds; she had looked round to see who had spoken, and met his confident gaze. What was remarkable was that he was clearly quite unembarrassed to show an interest in the subject. Normally, even those who were interested feigned a fashionable disdain.

Later, he told her that he had joined up precisely because he wanted to travel to far-off worlds, to explore, to see things that no human had seen before. She joked: "Visit interesting, exotic places, meet interesting, exotic people, and KILL them!" Though he smiled, it was a little strained, and she realised that recycling cliched formulae was not going to be enough for him. Winning Don Keller would be a challenge: and that was when she knew she had to have him.

Then, of course, she became enchanted by that intriguing combination of dark eyes and blond hair - and he had plenty of it then. It had been a shock when she'd seen him on a viscast a few years ago, reporting some find on a distant planet, and realised he was almost bald. Yes, soft,  
fair hair, wound round her fingers... She reached out and ran a gloved finger through the girl's hair. It didn't look so soft, but she supposed that was the result of living rough; evidently there had never been time to cut it, either.

 

Veron turned her head very slightly, so that the hair fell away from Servalan's touch. "And that one was different - how?"

"He was..." Servalan paused. None of the girl's business, those nights they had spent together, lying entwined as he read her his poetry. The music of his voice... "Perhaps we will be lovers for a long while. Who knows?"

"I do," she had said, smiling at her own surprise.

"He asked me to marry him," she told Veron. "That wasn't unusual." She grinned again. "But I said yes. That was unique."

"It didn't happen, though?" the girl prompted, after another pause.

"It very nearly did. A few more days... I had a dress to die for. I still keep it by me."

"You don't mean you have it here, now?"

Trying to call her bluff, was she? That wasn't very clever. Most of Servalan's wardrobe could pass muster as bridal wear. And most of it was white, too; an old fashion for a wedding, but Keller had always liked her in white. For once, however, no deception was necessary. She didn't take the dress everywhere; its box was normally locked up in her bedroom. But she had brought it along this time, on a whim, a wild notion that she could wear it while she interrogated Kasabi. In the end, she had decided against it. She often derived entertainment from her officers' attempts not to notice her extravagantly unsuitable costumes. Watching Travis suppressing his opinions of her conducting a torture session dressed in the flimsiest gown, slashed to the waist, with a jewelled lizard clutching at her breasts, could have been particularly amusing. But that was not the sort of amusement she had wanted today. A touch of comedy would have detracted from the pleasure of her long-awaited revenge. And besides, Kasabi had been too far gone to have understood.

Her daughter, however, was rising to the bait. Servalan smiled at her.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Would you like to see it?" Veron looked uncertain, but Servalan touched a comm link, and ordered the delivery of the box from the room she had commandeered.

"So what happened?" Good; Veron's curiosity had taken over now, she wanted to know the story. Which was heading towards its inevitable destination. The dress had provided a distraction, but Servalan could not put it off any longer. She hurried out the words, hoping to conceal the break in her voice.

"Your mother spoke to him."

 

It was so unfair. She still felt the injustice, every time she remembered. There had been so many men in the cadet corps and, by then, she had had no need for the others. Plenty for Kasabi. Why had the woman taken an interest in the only one that mattered? And why had she noticed the one thing Servalan had concealed from Don, the one secret she had feared he might not accept? The string of young men she had confessed openly to him, a necessary gambit; there were too many people who could tell him if she didn't. All she had done was to imply that rumours of their numbers had been slightly exaggerated, and he had quietly approved her candour. 

But Nis... it didn't count, she had told herself. Just a girl who'd had a crush on her, who she'd generously allowed to share her bed when no one else was there, who'd understood from the start that she took second place to any boy Servalan's fancy lighted on. _Because I'm not..._ Servalan hissed to herself. It was just too difficult to explain to Don how it was that Nis had taken second place so consistently, when first place had changed hands so often. She had known how to make herself useful to Servalan, that was all. If it hadn't been for Keller, the arrangement might have continued indefinitely. And only Kasabi had taken the girl seriously enough to think about what the arrangement was...

 

"What did she tell him?"

What had Kasabi told her daughter, Servalan wondered? "I was very young, and I had made mistakes. I was embarrassed to tell him."

"About the men?"

That was a relief. "Yes. About the men."

 

And Kasabi had told him about the men, she knew. Servalan had confronted her afterwards, and she'd admitted it.

"I just wanted to make sure Keller knew what he was getting into," she had stated with insolent calm. "He told me yes, you'd been very honest about it. How did you expect me to know that your honesty hadn't extended to mentioning your girlfriend?"

"She's not my - how dare you - _you_ \- brand me a criminal? Don't think I can't see your game - you thought if you smeared me with something really disgusting you could lure him away and have him yourself!"

Kasabi's expression moved swiftly from amusement to anger. "I had no idea that his morality was so conventional - it's hardly what one would expect in your paramour, is it? And what on earth would I want him for - he's only a boy!"

But Servalan wasn't fooled. What other reason could there be for interfering? Fortunately, she'd been keeping notes on Kasabi's more unorthodox remarks in class for weeks. It took only minutes to draft an appropriate report on treasonable activities to the supervising officer.

 

"So that's why you said she made a habit of telling people all about you," said Veron. "And you hate her because he broke off with you. But that doesn't make him my father."

"It was about that time that your mother was detained," observed Servalan. "But during the inquiry into her activities, she escaped and joined the resistance."

"You reported her."

"She was living on borrowed time. Kasabi made very little attempt to conceal her views." Servalan ignored the girl's glare. "The day before she disappeared, he went absent without leave. He was missing for a fortnight, and then he returned." 

She remembered the sympathetic looks he'd got from some of the others. Everyone knew they had quarrelled, though he'd obviously kept his mouth shut about why. Once, she'd heard a rumour that it was she who had broken with him after catching him with Nis... Someone thought he'd seen them talking afterwards, which just showed how little everyone knew; their relations had been chilly at the best of times, but hell would have frozen before they could have exchanged words later. Keller had been allowed to continue his training when he got back, though the breach of discipline had been a black mark on his record. That was why he tended to miss the most prestigious assignments. But then, she'd always suspected that those weren't the assignments he'd care about.

While they were still with the corps, it was impossible to avoid occasional accidental meetings, but they never spoke and barely looked at each other. She did her best never even to think of him; she locked her memories away in a dress box which she couldn't quite bring herself to destroy. Nor could she bring herself to point out the obvious connection between his disappearance and Kasabi's. To do that would be to admit that she cared about it, and she had resolved never to care again.

"It was sixteen years ago," she whispered, staring at the girl in front of her.

"So you think he rescued her, and... Why are you telling me all this? What do you want?"

Small face, puzzled eyes, long fair hair spilling over muddied torn green fatigues. Could this really be...? "Kasabi took my man," she murmured. "Now I have her child."

Veron looked back, fear adding to her confusion. "You do want to kill me."

"No." Servalan caressed her shoulder - and one of the viewscreens blinked into life. Travis, of course - she might have known that he would interrupt her business with some importunate demand. Not to mention the fact that Blake had outflanked him again - outflanked a Space Commander, after a fifteen-year-old girl had outwitted four rebels for him. He wanted the Forbidden Zone deactivated? That meant calling in some favours from the High Council. But she had to do it - she was too closely involved in this particular Blake-trap to risk Travis failing. So, a concession or two to that slimy Rontane, a little sweet-talking with Joban... It was trivial stuff, in the end. She reported her diplomatic triumph to Travis, who was annoyingly unimpressed, turned back to Veron - and then the door opened. A disconcertingly quiet door, with no locking mechanism: was there no privacy here? She should have given orders that she was not to be disturbed.

"Who are you?"

A mutoid. It took her a moment to shuffle round the door, manoeuvring something long and awkward. "You requested delivery of this box, Supreme Commander?" 

Ah, the dress box. She had forgotten it in the flurry of everyday political manoeuvring.

 

She had not seen the contents in a long time; not since she had replaced the old box with this one, which had a fingerprint lock. Servalan touched the pad gently, and the lid slowly split to reveal what lay inside. She looked up at Veron.

"He never saw it, you know." An old superstition, to keep the dress secret before the wedding.

"That's why you want me to see it?"

"Maybe I would have had a daughter." The gauntlet thrown down. What would Veron do with it?

She looked up at Servalan, amazed by the offer in her voice.

"Put the dress on," she said suddenly. Her tone of command took Servalan by surprise.

"Why?"

"That's what you want, isn't it? To show me what my father never saw," Veron answered, and Servalan's doubts ebbed a little further. She heard the voice of Don Keller, calm, faintly amused, daring to demand where all her other lovers pleaded and coaxed. So she removed her hat, peeled away her gloves, unfastened her jacket and shrugged it off, let her skirt fall to the floor. Finally, she pulled the dress over her head, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt the lizard slithering down her body. And as the folds of silk fell into place her eyes opened again, and she saw they were no longer alone.

A woman in a long blue dress, training a gun on her. Not one of Kasabi's people. They wore camouflaged fatigues, whereas this one's dress was almost as impractical as her own. And she kept glancing between Servalan and Veron, obviously uncertain of who the girl might be. Probably one of Blake's. Quickly, she reviewed the Liberator crew's files in her mind, and settled on the smuggler, Stannis.

The woman concentrated her attention on Servalan, and spoke. "I'm looking for some friends. Have you seen them, by any chance?"

Servalan smoothed her skirts, as if it were a commonplace occurrence for strange women with guns to barge in on her. "I'm afraid I haven't had any other unscheduled visitors today."

"Are you with Blake?" Veron interrupted.

Stannis turned slightly towards her.

"I know where they are. He's got through the Forbidden Zone and into the control complex. I heard Travis tell her."

"You're very helpful," said Stannis, evidently wondering whether to believe her.

"I owe them. I betrayed them to Travis. You can kill me, if you like; I deserve it. But he said he'd save my mother if I helped him."

"Your mother?"

"Kasabi," proclaimed Veron, visibly gaining pride as she spoke the name. The girl was so melodramatic. Of course, Servalan could never really have kept her, any more than she could have stayed married to Keller. It had never been a serious intention, merely a game; teasing her was the final round of the match with her mother.

"Where is Kasabi?" asked Stannis.

"She's dead. Travis killed her anyway. Look, you must get to Blake before he does. You can make this one take you there."

"You really are Kasabi's daughter?"

"Yes, her only child." Veron was still addressing Stannis, but she was speaking with careful emphasis. "My father was her second-in-command. He was killed in a raid on the Southdome spaceport two years ago."

She was wrong, oh, undoubtedly wrong; Servalan could no longer accept any possibility but the one which had brought her here. When Veron Kasabi betrayed her - turned down the best offer she would receive in her life, to help a rebel - it was the final, incontrovertible proof. This was indeed her long-lost lover's child. But she would remember their meeting only as a repetition of the lessons she had never forgotten anyway: that sentiment is weakness, relying on others folly, to love is to leave oneself defenceless.

As they walked down the corridors to the heart of what had once been Central Control, Servalan planned her revenge on all those who had brought her to this point, and she planned her future. Alone. Yes, she would reach the summit in triumphant solitude. And for that, she could thank Don Keller's daughter.


End file.
